


Edge of Oblivion (V1)

by Smith_Machine



Series: Edge of Oblivion [1]
Category: NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smith_Machine/pseuds/Smith_Machine
Summary: Tony is framed for murder and his team didn’t entirely believe he was innocent. Tony was murdered by the person that framed him, dying due to being stabbed in the lung. Now he’s out for his team and is keen on sucking the life force out of them. Gibbs is immune to this and is the only one that can see Tony (mostly) and feel his presence. I know that in the main series that other people have seen spirits of dead team members, this is just for the laughs since everyone is horny for Gibbs’ blue eyes, so I switched it up to become a curse.
Series: Edge of Oblivion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199576
Kudos: 11





	Edge of Oblivion (V1)

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is welcomed, if I made any grammatical or punctuation mistakes- please let me know! c:

The dotted lines that separate are for differences in place and time. It’s like a prologue basically.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
For every day and every night since he died, the black pit inside of him expanded. An all-consuming entity that turned soft memories of friends and family to bitter reminders. How could they have been so blind to believe a dirty lie? Why didn’t they try hard enough? What did I do wrong?  
Tony sat at the foot of his abode of yore, silent. The door sat ajar to his back, the casted shadow blanketed his drooped complexion. Tony felt a pressure behind his eyes, yet not a single tear was shed.  
He recalled the moments of his demise- it all went by so fast. He recalled how his legs gave away, leaving him in the dirt before he could get help. How he didn’t even know he had died until he got up from lying down on the ground after it seemed ages had passed.

Upon standing up, he brushed himself off. He froze for a second, catching his hand on the wet spot on his chest. Slowly he turned to see his own body, a bloody mess on the sidewalk. He slumped against the building, thousands of questions stirred in his mind. Any sense of urgency was nonexistent, he had no motivation, no call to action. The only thing he felt was right to do, was to wait. Tony stood without even the slightest flinch or give in his stance.

The night ended quickly, time losing its meaning completely as the stars seeped back into the darkness to let the day breach. The frost tipped the hair of his corpse, Tony’s tanned hued skin tone long faded into a sickening pallor. His eyes lost their shine, dulling down to soulless marbles that sat deep in their sockets. His fingers had curled inwards and turned stiff and cold like twigs in winter. The team didn’t find him for a while, he could see the devastation in their faces and felt a sense of “I told you so.” No pity, minimal fear. Fulfilled he observed their twisted expressions of grief carefully, watching as they examined his body briefly and rolled it away into the van. Finally, something drove him to move from that cursed spot. With one foot placed in front of the other he followed them back home.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
For Tony it felt so strange to be ever present and have everyone you’ve cared about stare past the form you thought you possessed, except him. He could have sworn that Gibbs could see him, glancing to corners where he stood and any time he stood close he noticed how Gibbs would tense up. The aura he emitted was palpable, an oppressive wave of sadness fell upon everyone in that office, like the tearful hiccup in the back of one’s throat. Any sense of normalcy he attempted to retain slipped through his grasp like a rope of sand. Barely noticing that he had not once since he died he felt any craving or thirst. Unable to rest, he often reminded himself of what it meant to dream. 

A little dip into the void while contorted movies crossed one’s mind. What wonderful memories. An invisible chain kept him bound, even if he wanted to find his killer- something kept him stuck and the blood in his phantom lungs burned him every time he thought too hard on it. 

He couldn’t take off his tattered clothing and the final wound would never heal as long as he was here. It didn’t hurt, it just was there mostly. Nothing hurt him physically anymore, but that line was blurred long ago and at this point he couldn’t care less. Pain was pain, no matter what is disguised itself as. Every cry had no tears to accompany and no one to lean on, a delayed reaction that finally reared its head to signify how the rest of existence would treat him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a massive break in the case, but it didn’t yield what was being looked for. Tony could only watch as yet again, the wrong man was going to face the wrath of interrogation. Just another nobody caught in this web of lies. He had tried sending messages before, getting them through was another issue. No matter how hard he could scream into the earthly void or called out. The writing faded quickly and his screams meant nothing. 

Gibbs faced the man, face contorted slightly to break the poker mask he’d been known for. He was here, he could feel him in the room over like the heat around a searing flame. This was a sign, he peeked over for a second- nothing. Maybe he was getting close, was this it. 

“We found your name in this group chat and ran from one of our agents.”

The man had half closed eyes as he gave a shit-eating smirk, “how am I supposed to know? They didn’ look like no agent to me.”

“That’s the point,” Gibbs rumbled, pulling open the file near him and placing a picture of Tony onto the table. He eyed the man, clenching his jaw he put the picture in front of him, pressing a finger down onto it.

“Your name was in a group chat that was discussing how to kill this man, is there anyone in that chat connected to this man’s death?” His patience was running thin, he felt as if he was speaking from a script. An autopilot reaction to keep his anger in check. 

“Listen chief, I honest to god don’t have a clue what you’re-” 

Snap.

Gibbs rose up and almost grabbed the man by the front of his collar with how much rage he felt. He grit his teeth and came inches to his face. Before he could lay into him, the man squealed.

The man shriveled back into his seat at the rattled table, the outburst made him shiver and he whimpered like a hurt dog.

Gibbs closed the distance to him and spoke low and carefully, a promise of brimstone and fire. “I want answers, I want them now.”

“None of us knew each other, we were brought into the chat by this guy. I don’t know his name, I don’t know nothin’ about him. He disguises his voice all code like and promised us that whoever got to him first would get the money.” 

A sudden bang behind him broke Gibbs’ attention to the suspect. Turning his head to the glass he saw a fuzzy reflection not of his own but instead a familiar, thin complexion with dead, angry eyes that burned like the magma pits of Hades greeted him. He felt a familiar chill like frostbite run down his spine. There was an intense rapping that bounced off the walls as Tony banged repeatedly. The glass visibly flexed with each impact until another sound raptured the cacophony.

For the first time he could hear Tony, clear as day in a roar that shook the glass. “Stop! It’s not him!”

A moment passed and Gibbs was brought back to the man, there was no echo, no noise, nothing to indicate that he’d heard anything in the first place. The room was completely silent as if all the noise had been sucked out.

He sat back into his seat and sighed defeatedly. 

“We’re done here.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“No way, he broke through?” Abby’s eyes widened, taking the straw out of her mouth as she set the beverage down. 

“He’s getting riled up, and this case is getting colder,” Gibbs looked tired, no matter the coffee. That was the last suspect, and he didn’t know what else to do at this point.

“This is much worse than when Kate died. . . Isn't it?” Abby whispered with a slightly haunted look in her eyes. 

“Very.”

“But we found her killer and she came around sometime after-”

“We already knew who it was, it was just a matter of catching the bastard,” He cut her off and rubbed his eyes as he gave a small shake of the head.

Abby nodded, everyone was suffering from this, if only the rest knew what Tony had done to warn them. Her lip quivered as the memories of Tony flooded her mind, and the image of his tortured soul reaching out rocked her. She wrapped her arms around Gibbs and began to cry, ugly tears into his shoulder as her sobs made her chest heave.

“Poor Tony, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” her voice was muffled as she held him tighter. She couldn’t bear to think of how alone Tony was, she’d give anything in the world to hug him now, all she had was Gibbs- and that was okay.

He held her and put one of his large hands on her head, the warmth returned briefly to wash away the pain of the day. A shape manifested, catching his eye he shifted his gaze beside her to the corner where a few shafts of light peaked into the window to alight the apparition. He couldn’t see any distinct features but he was well aware of who was stalking them. Gibbs shot a sharp glare at the shadow with the fierceness of a father scorned, holding Abby closer to him.

No. You can’t have her. I’m sorry.


End file.
